


certain darkness (is needed to see the stars)

by izucaii



Series: kagehina works [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Getting Together, Growth, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Kageyama Tobio is Bad at Feelings, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Non-Linear Narrative, Panic Attacks, Personal Growth, Pre-Slash, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Sort Of, also ignore how hard i Speedran this, ignore any and all inconsistencies thanks, no beta we die like my motivation after posting this, parenting a cat together, soulmates haikyuu style, that's right: karasu makes a return
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27949709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izucaii/pseuds/izucaii
Summary: Hinata Shouyou is something of an enigma. At least, that’s what Tobio used to think. He’s not completely fluent in the boy’s language just yet, but he thinks he’s able to understand him more than he’s ever understood anyone else. He understood his grandfather, but he was much older than anyone he would ever play with; he understood Miwa until he didn’t, her sudden aversion to cutting her hair and preferring to give up volleyball instead.But Hinata is easy.—soulmate (n):a person with whom you have an immediate connection with the moment you meet—a connection so strong that you are drawn to them in a way you have never experienced before. as this connection develops over time, you experience a love so deep, strong and complex, that you begin to doubt that you have ever truly loved anyone prior[In which, over the course of a decade, Tobio falls, gently and slowly and with his eyes wide open. / A KageHina Big Bang 2020 Fic]
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Series: kagehina works [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906021
Comments: 14
Kudos: 63
Collections: Kagehina Big Bang 2020





	certain darkness (is needed to see the stars)

**Author's Note:**

> art by the lovely mitao <3

His life started out happily enough, he thinks.

Tobio grew up with his sister and his grandfather, both of whom encouraged him in everything he did. Volleyball and racing were common familial competitions that Tobio enjoyed very much; Kazuyo held the rear in score while he and Miwa were very close with a tiny gap between them. (Tobio has been in the lead by the skin of his teeth and is determined to keep it that way for as long as he can.)

Kazuyo always found the time for Tobio, to practice with him and take him to matches to watch and play. He was the one who taught him about the setters, the ones who controlled the game almost behind the scenes.

Volleyball is safe. It’s always something he could return to, to go through motions that he knows like the backs of his hands. 

It’s comforting like a weighted blanket, warm like the sun on his skin when he practices outside with his grandfather and Miwa, racing through the sidewalks and the streets on the way home. 

It filled him with pride and confidence; his skills grew and he refined them, always coming home with his hand—starting to harden with patches of roughened and worked fingers—clasped warmly within his grandfather’s own large, callused one.

Tobio hears the words _I promise you, someday, if you get really good, someone even better will come find you._ It’s something that sounds silly to him, the conviction and belief and _meaning_ behind the words in Kazuyo’s voice gone over his head as an eight-year-old boy. 

He knows he’ll find someone to call his teammate, a partner. Every spiker has a setter to back them up, after all. Tobio doesn’t think too much about the words as they walk home.

Volleyball was protecting. Safe.

And then Kazuyo passed away.

Miwa moved out to college to study and work in cosmetology.

Kitagawa Daichi turns sour, a bitter reminder of who was lost.

He’s thirteen when he finds himself alone.

It doesn’t feel as safe anymore after that.

( ☾ )

_10, 11_

_the sun outshines you, sometimes from behind the clouds._

It’s a normal day when Tobio runs off from his family race with a little too much energy and finds himself at a community park. 

He can’t hear Miwa yelling at him for running off anymore, nor can he see the length of her hair trailing behind her as she runs. He can’t hear Kazuyo’s sporadic coughs as he jogs and takes up the rear.

Tobio loves his family, he does, but he won’t lie to himself. He’s scared. 

It feels like he’s losing both of them, watching as their time together slips through his fingers, a phantom whispering in the breeze. Tobio continues to climb higher while Miwa branches off, climbing a different way. Sometimes he pretends he doesn’t see Kazuyo’s path coming to a halting plateau.

So he does what he does best: practice and run. He runs as far as his ten-year-old legs will take him, and he finds the nearby community park. 

Most of it is open space, fields of grass and pathing connecting them between apartment buildings. There are families spread out, enjoying the sun and the afternoon breeze, kids hopping and rolling through the grass between trees.

He stalls his speed, lessening the force in his legs and slowing in front of a low summer green tree, stopping only to slump against its trunk.

Tobio is young and inexperienced with life, but he’s not stupid. Things are falling apart around him, slowly eroding like a mountain beneath years of rainfall. He’s afraid of what his life will become if he doesn’t have Miwa and Kazuyo to share it with.

He doesn’t want to cry under the leaves of a tree in a public park in Miyagi, but here he is, feeling like his whole world is falling apart at the seams. His eyes tear up and his vision blurs, but he keeps himself from making any noise. Tobio doesn’t know what he’d do if an adult, or, god forbid, someone else his age came to check on him.

He spends a decent amount of time there, back pressed against bark and every piece of him stitching themselves back together with thread so thin that they snap with each new stitch. He’s just barely managing to keep himself together, but no tears have spilled down his cheeks, so he counts it as a win. Tobio only wishes he didn’t feel so fragile.

His luck can only go so far though, because soon enough someone does come up to check on him, and it isn’t an adult.

“Are you okay?” a voice asks above him.

He’s tempted to ignore it, to keep his eyes glued to his arms slack against the tops of his thighs, but the voice is so caring and he just wants someone to be near him.

Tobio lifts his gaze to find a tiny ginger-haired kid. He’s all bruised on his arms and legs but he’s smiley and warm and he’s fiddling with a volleyball. Tobio’s heart jumps into his throat—a _volleyball._ Does he actually play or does he just have it to juggle in his palms?

The boy looks unsure of what to say next, eyes wide and a blue bandage stuck to his cheek. But after a moment of sudden eye contact, he looks down at the ball in his hands and holds it out in offering. “Do you want to play volleyball with me?”

Tobio can’t say no.

It starts out smoothly enough, a solid first pass that Tobio easily returns, but then the boy starts to fumble around, dropping every other round.

“Why do you suck so bad?” Tobio asks loudly when the ball ricochets off the boy’s red arms for the thirteenth time.

The boy pouts at him, eyes no longer looking towards the ball’s off-course path. “That’s mean, you know!” he hollers back.

Tobio frowns. “You’re moving your arms too much when it comes to you,” he tells him. “You gotta drop your hips and use your whole body.”

With the ball back in his palms, the boy looks back at Tobio, bottom lip jutting out in a thoughtful pout. He seems to consider this, though doesn’t say anything more. He tosses the ball over to Tobio to restart their back and forth, and once it comes back to him, he follows through, not moving his arms as much and rather using his body.

The boy gapes, mouth falling open in surprised satisfaction. “Like that?” he asks, voice wavering with excitement. 

“Yeah, like that.”

They make it another round before the boy fumbles and drops it again, and Tobio doesn’t stop himself from yelling at him again. The boy takes it in stride, shooting his own jabs at him in return.

Tobio can’t be too upset about it though, because the boy more than makes up for his inconsistency with speed and determination. Whenever he gets a receive decently enough that it makes it back to Tobio without much of a struggle, he beams wide, mouth splitting his face with joy and satisfaction.

It’s the first time he’s been even remotely happy over anything in what feels like a long time. Sure, the boy is awful at receiving and can barely keep the ball up without tripping on his feet or fumbling a pass, but Tobio’s having _fun._ That’s reason for some thought right? Tobio doesn’t know the boy’s name. He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t think about it either when the boy picks up his things to leave with a wide, toothy grin and red forearms waving at him in satisfied glee. He waves back, though he mulishly refuses to smile, no matter how much his lips want to.

“Maybe we can play together again sometime!” he yells, the sun setting behind him and brightening the vivid hair already on his head like a halo.

And, despite himself, Tobio believes him.

( ☾ )

_16, 17_

_but the sun may not always shine._

Tobio never thought he’d be the father of a cat, let alone share that cat with Hinata.

See, finding the cat was never a part of his daily plan, but when Hinata comes barreling into the gym with a dirty, cold, wet kitten in his palms, he supposes he’s going to have to incorporate it into his day’s routine because Hinata always drags him into his antics.

The rain from the morning has long since cleared up, the sun casting rays across the gyms. He and Hinata are taking the cat to Tobio’s home, since it’s closest to the school and not beyond the summit of a fairly decently sized mountain. Hinata had tried to argue against this point, but a half-hearted glare and short cuff upside the head from Tobio made him reevaluate his claims.

It’s a short trip, and they don’t bother to fill the space between them with anything more than the bouts of purring and mewls from the kitten cradled in Tobio’s arms. Hinata seems entirely pleased with Tobio’s developing infatuation with the tiny creature, perfectly content to let him get as much time with it as he can before they start bickering between themselves again, most like.

No one’s home when they get there, but Hinata hollers _Pardon the intrusion!_ anyway as he takes off his shoes to place in the _genkan._ (“I have _manners,_ Bakageyama.”)

Hinata takes the cat from his arms and bolts up to Tobio’s room, no stranger to the layout of his house. Tobio lets him, just barely refraining from grumbling. Playing host, he goes into the kitchen and grabs them both a drink, quickly making his way up the stairs and to Hinata.

For as nosy as he is, he doesn’t snoop, but Tobio isn’t exactly willing to test how long that politeness will last.

When he reaches his room, knocking the door closed with the heel of his foot, Hinata’s perched on the end of his bed, watching the kitten as it explores the quilt draped across the mattress. It’s cute, Tobio has to admit, watching Hinata watch the cat with such wide wondrous eyes as though he’s never seen a cat in its curious element.

“Oi,” Tobio grunts, knocking his knuckles against the side of Hinata’s head. He holds out the drink in his hand as a platitude when Hinata turns to look at him with a pout.

“Thanks, Bakageyama,” he grumbles, slowly reaching his left hand towards the cat to act as a blockade before the little thing can slip off the side of the bed.

Tobio doesn’t grant him an answer, instead opting to drop down beside the boy with his knuckles rubbing soothingly against the top of the cat’s head. For such a tiny thing, Tobio doesn’t think its purrs should be as loud as they are, but they’re soft and content, and it feels like the kitten has already stolen his heart.

There’s nothing but silence in the room, both of them seemingly understanding that the bubble they’re in doesn’t need words.

After a little while, the cat seems content with its thorough search, making its way across the mounds of blankets and cloth and over Hinata’s lap. It doesn’t stop until its paws touch Tobio’s thigh. With a mewl, it climbs up and settles on top of both of his thighs, curling up and pressing its face into Tobio’s shirt.

And Tobio… Tobio wants to spoil the little thing.

He smiles, fingers slowly scratching into the fur on its head. Purrs fill the silence of the room again, the rustling of fabric as Hinata shuffles closer and the cat shifts Tobio’s shirt between its paws.

He’s not sure what his own face looks like, but Hinata’s looking at him with sticky-sweet eyes, the smallest of blushes spread across his cheekbones.

“…What?”

“Nothing,” Hinata says, smile proud and warm and soft.

Tobio snorts. “Sure, dumbass.”

Hinata’s face softens even more, and Tobio doesn’t know what to do with the fondness soaking into the atmosphere and into his chest.

His partner leans in closer, arms pressing tightly together. The boy’s head drops to rest against Tobio’s shoulder, his curls brushing his neck and the line of his jaw.

“It’s just nice,” Hinata says, voice low in the quiet of his bedroom, “seeing you smile because of things other than volleyball. You don’t really smile that much otherwise.”

Tobio grunts. “You said my smiles were creepy.”

“Not when you’re really happy, Bakageyama,” Hinata says quickly, the back of his hand smacking Tobio in the chest. “Your ‘creepy’ ones are creepy just because you force them. But when you’re actually happy, it’s a super nice smile.”

Tobio’s lips twist, not quite a grimace but not a smile either. It’s nice, to hear that Hinata thinks his _smiles_ of all things are nice to look at. No one really would give him the time of day to even think about what looks good on him and what doesn’t. But Hinata holds a lot of his firsts, Tobio thinks. Maybe this is only natural.

When Tobio doesn’t respond, tilting his head down so his fringe covers his eyes more, Hinata leans in somehow even closer and pokes him in the cheek. “I’m serious, Kageyama. I like your smiles. Happy looks good on you, you know.”

“Dumbass,” Tobio mumbles, turnings his head away from the boy with more compliments about him and his character than he’s used to. Compliments about his play and technique? Sure, he can accept those, mostly. But compliments about him as a _person?_ Not as easy to swallow. Being alone for two years without his old safety net of his grandfather’s warmth and support will do a few things to a boy’s psyche.

Hinata makes a small noise in the back of his throat, and his fingers find Tobio’s jaw, cradling it gently against the callused skin of his palm. His lips find Tobio’s cheek, warm and soft despite the slightly chapped patch in the center. It’s a there-and-gone touch, light and fleeting, but it makes the nerve endings in Tobio’s face go alight, tingles zinging down his spine.

“The cat suits you too, Kageyama-kun,” Hinata croons, leaning back a little, but his face is still close enough for Tobio to feel his breath against his cheek.

Tobio blinks at him. “Karasu,” he murmurs.

“Karasu?”

“Yeah,” Tobio whispers, the tender softness of the moment burrowing its way into his chest to stay, firm and warm and fuzzy. The cat squirms further into his thighs, nose pushing into his stomach. “I want to keep him.”

Hinata smiles, small and gentle, soothing like the morning sun not yet at its full heat.

“He already loves you, you know.”

Tobio shrugs. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. The cat seems to at least _like_ him, if his cuddling and contented mews are any indicators, and Tobio’s just fine with that.

Hinata huffs out an exasperated laugh. His head finds Tobio’s shoulder again, settling easily into the crook of his neck to stay. His fingers trail down Tobio’s forearms slowly and indulgently, tracing the lines of the muscles there with a featherlight touch before they wrap around Tobio’s hand. He lets Hinata in, lets him tangle their fingers together.

Not another word is spoken between them for the rest of their time together until Hinata admits he should get going. Even then, there’s not much exchanged between them besides the sweet press of lips on both of Tobio’s cheeks before they finally meet their mark.

( ☾ )

_21_

_the moon might not glow the same._

Being a professional volleyball player means almost daily practices and busy schedules. Tobio adores it, enjoys what he does and how much time it takes.

But on days where his boyfriend is coming back home after two years spent across the world, however, he’d very much rather not have to think about showing up to practice. Especially when he has a plan he would very much consider important. Tobio could simply call in sick, but he’s never been one to use his sick days unless he’s dying in his apartment.

(It had felt like that once, a night of ejecting the contents of his stomach because of a fit of food poisoning. Tobio was too pale and too shaky on his feet the next morning, and was forced to use a sick day.)

Tobio is almost tempted to call in a favor, to ask the backup setter to fill in for him for the day, but he knows that’s not fairly possible. Practices usually need full numbers and no one ever misses unless due to extenuating circumstances.

Turns out he doesn’t have to use a sick day at all, practice canceled due to renovations and leftover weather conditions.

Now all he has to worry about is getting to the airport in time to catch Shouyou’s flight landing. Well, call it _all_ he has to worry about. 

Tobio grabs a jacket from his closet, slipping his arms through the sleeves as he walks over to his dresser. A small velvet box sits atop the surface, black and cradling a golden band that never fails to send a twist of anxiety and nerves into his gut.

He’ll be _fine,_ he’s got a _plan._

Yamaguchi—Shouyou’s chauffeur for the day—already knows that he’ll be at the airport, already knows what he means to do once Tobio sees his boyfriend again in person.

He’s out the door before he can twist the words in his head and lock himself in his room.

Tobio takes the bus to the airport, a ride that goes by largely smoothly with a facemask covering the majority of his face. Fans possibly seeing him on his way there would be a bit too much on his shoulders. He likes talking to them, but it takes a lot of energy out of him.

He slips by without a hitch, striding through the doors with a faked confidence. Yamaguchi’s already there browsing on his phone, waiting to the side outside the terminal exits.

“Ah, Kageyama!” he calls when his eyes lift from his phone. “Are you ready?”

Tobio nods stiffly.

Yamaguchi laughs, though it’s only kind. “You’ll be fine! There’s no way he’ll say no.”

He nods again, refraining from shoving his hands into his pockets where he knows the box is nestled safely.

“I’ll go on ahead so Hinata sees me first, that sound cool?”

Another nod, and then he’s alone near the walls. Shouyou’s flight will have landed by now, so it’s only a matter of time before a fresh wave of people come down the stairs to go gather their luggage.

It’s not much longer until he sees Shouyou’s beacon of an untameable tangle of orange curls. Shouyou beelines towards Yamaguchi, grinning and blabbering, and Tobio thinks he looks like the sun itself, bright and smiley and happy.

He figures this is the time to start inching closer, fingers reaching up to tug his facemask down to rest underneath his chin.

And then Tobio watches in slow motion as Shouyou’s eyes shift from Yamaguchi and slide ever so slightly to the left where he stands a little ways behind them.

Shouyou freezes in place beside Yamaguchi, smile dropping in shock and widening eyes locking onto Tobio’s. “…Tobio?”

“Surprise,” he says unceremoniously, shoving his hands back into his jacket pockets as he steps closer. His fingers knock against the velvet of the box, and he desperately attempts to swallow down the ball of nerves arising in his throat. Tobio grips it gently, balling it in the center of his palm and trying not to squirm underneath his boyfriend’s gape. 

Yamaguchi is smiling at the both of them, a glint in his eyes that Tobio both understands and doesn’t, and he says, “Well, I’ll give you a moment.” He walks off towards one of the airport vendors, weaving through the crowd.

Tobio looks back at Shouyou, and he’s met with honey soft eyes, molten with an emotion he can’t name. Before he can blink, Shouyou’s standing in front of him, neck pillow firmly around his neck and baggage trailing behind him. At this distance, Tobio can easily see the new vivid dusting of cinnamon across his nose and the tops of his cheeks, and he fights the urge to kiss along them.

“I thought you were busy,” Shouyou breathes once he’s close enough. Shouyou isn’t _tiny,_ but he’s still rather short; compared to Tobio, his forehead only reaches his chin, just like it had when they were in high school.

“Today turned out to be an off day for the Adlers. And,” he says, voice pitched low, only meant for Shouyou, “I wanted to see you.”

His boyfriend’s eyes glow something fierce, shining underneath airport lighting that shouldn’t look as flattering as it does on Shouyou’s face. Tobio doesn’t get another second to admire him in his suntanned glory up close because Shouyou’s throwing his arms around his neck and pulling him even closer.

His nose buries itself into the flushed space just above Tobio’s collarbone, a sigh brushing against the skin there. “I missed you,” Shouyou says, quiet and subdued like he only is when he wants everyone to know that he’s being genuinely serious.

Tobio blinks for a moment, taking in the new weight of corded muscles beneath the tanned skin of Shouyou’s arms before he wraps his own around his boyfriend’s firm waist. “I missed you too, dumbass.”

They stand in silence for a time, just taking in each other’s presence after two years of only being able to see each other’s faces through a video screen—and even that view was fleeting in frequency.

Tobio leans his head forward, taking in the curls that are much shorter than he’d last been able to feel. He runs one palm along Shouyou’s spine, sighing into the embrace.

“Marry me,” Shouyou tells him without preamble, words pressed against the skin of his neck with the warmth of a Brazilian sun. Orange waves, spatters of sunspots, burning brown eyes, and warm, _warm warm warm._

Tobio stills, and he gets a large whiff of Shouyou’s scent, metallic like ozone, sunrays warm like summer. “Marry you?”

“Marry me,” he says again, emphatic and sure and absolutely dripping with affection.

Tobio huffs out a laugh because of _course_ this would happen. Shouyou has always been so much of a surprise to him that it should have stopped being a surprise at all.

He pulls away, thumbs stroking semicircles into Shouyou’s waist just above his hipbones, and presses a kiss to his hairline. Tobio steps back after that, not without a short plaintive noise from between Shouyou’s pursed lips at the loss of his warmth, and reaches back into his coat pocket.

Shouyou doesn’t say anything, but his eyes watch Tobio with a new calculating gaze that feels heavier than it’s ever felt to be beneath.

With a smile, short and small—because Tobio knows it might twist into something a little unhinged if he keeps it up for much longer—he pulls out the box and holds it out as delicately as he can in his large palm. With a little flick of his thumb, the lid clicks open, and the golden band glimmers in the building’s uneven lighting. Shouyou’s gaze shifts from analytical to downright surprised and in awe.

“I’ve been waiting,” is the only thing that Tobio says, but it’s enough. 

It’s always been enough.

Shouyou launches himself into Tobio’s arms and laughs, a wet sound that settles into Tobio’s very soul, finally undoing the knot of nerves that’s weighed down his shoulders ever since he bought the ring.

Once Shouyou settles down enough for his hands to stop shaking so much, he lets Tobio slip the band onto his finger, a weight that fits perfectly. He’s still bouncing, body balanced on the balls of his feet, eyes glued to the gold that’s now theirs to share.

Without another second, Shouyou’s hands cup Tobio’s jaw and tug him down, their mouths meeting softly like honey mixing with freshly brewed tea.

“I’m here,” Shouyou whispers against Tobio’s lips.

Tobio pulls back just enough to lean their foreheads together. With a smile, he murmurs, soft and for only one man to hear, “You’re invincible.”

( ☾ )

_15, 16_

_the sky may not always be blue._

Hinata Shouyou is something of an enigma. At least, that’s what Tobio used to think. He’s not completely fluent in the boy’s language just yet, but he thinks he’s able to understand him more than he’s ever understood anyone else. He understood his grandfather, but he was much older than anyone he would ever play with; he understood Miwa until he didn’t, her sudden aversion to cutting her hair and preferring to give up volleyball instead. 

But Hinata is easy. 

He certainly is a boy of living contradictions. He’s loud and he’s boisterous and most of all he’s _annoying,_ but Tobio comes to learn that maybe it’s not so bad to have Hinata around. Hinata understands people, and he might not be the best with words, with his _bwah’s_ and _gwah’s_ and odd squawks and hollers, but he knows what to say if not how to say it.

He understands _Tobio,_ and if that isn’t an accomplishment of this boy that makes him feel oddly warm and tingly inside, then he doesn’t know what is.

Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.

Learning how he thinks and how he moves isn’t something that’s very hard for Tobio to do. He’s not the best with people—he’s _awful,_ he knows he is—but Hinata is just... easy. In every way he can think about him. For as annoying as Hinata is, in all his short, jittery, chatterbox self, Tobio is getting used to him.

It gets even easier as time goes on, as more practice sessions come and go, the nights extended just for them to work together on their attacks. It’s nice, Tobio thinks, to have a system like this that’s always there and never leaves. It’s safe, something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

It’s exciting when they learn that they’re going to Tokyo for the training camp, too, spending the days together just improving themselves and going up against powerhouse schools. The life that Tobio has led so far had no room to allow for friends and interactions with people that aren’t in competition. Waking up to friendly faces and going to sleep beside the warmth of his teammates and _friends_ is soothing in a way that he never knew he’d been missing.

Actually going to the training camp in Tokyo doesn’t seem as daunting as it might have been. Tobio isn’t as unsure how to go about interacting with his teammates as he used to be. Knowing Hinata helps.

What he doesn’t expect is to have Hinata play greedy.

Hinata is a greedy person. He’s always been greedy, demanding tosses and spikes and more practice time with an endless reservoir of energy. Whether or not he’s aware of how fast he’s improving and how much more he begins to demand, he doesn’t realize that it’s harming the team.

So Tobio tells him.

Hinata is also a spitfire; spirit and pride growing to an all-time high—Tobio thinks that the size and strength of both of these things are attempting to make up for his lack of height. He shouldn’t be so surprised when Hinata _growls_ at him and demands that he keep setting because he _has_ to get better, he can’t get better if he stops.

Tobio doesn’t want to fight Hinata over it. He really doesn’t. But with Hinata trying so hard to figure out how to play with his eyes open for all to see, most of all himself?

“Hinata!” he shouts, voice biting and sharp in a way that he doesn’t really feel, that he doesn’t _want_ to feel. He doesn’t want to be harsh with his partner because only bad things have come from him being harsh. But Tobio knows they can’t try and sort this out in one night.

He watches, trapped inside his own body as Hinata slumps into himself when Tobio refuses to set for him any longer. Watches as his own hands connect with Hinata’s body, with his shoulders, watches as he _throws him_ to the ground.

Yachi herself is watching in horror, and Tobio only faintly notices her bolt out of the gym with wide, frightened eyes.

It’s over almost as soon as it started, but the memory lingers. Stains itself into Tobio’s mind. He can’t forget the anger in Hinata’s eyes when Tobio had turned away from him, but most of all he can’t forget the _hurt_ that Hinata’s face was incapable of overshadowing with annoyance and furrowed brows.

They go their separate ways, not even bothering to share a path home like they always do. Hinata opts to walk Yachi to her bus stop instead.

Tobio tries hard not to let the sting show on his face. He hasn’t had to keep his face this flat and apathetic-like in a long time, it feels like. Hinata never wanted anything but honesty from him. He can tell that Shouyou enjoys their bickering just as much as Tobio does.

He stops at a crosswalk, lifting his fingers to his cheek before he snatches them back down. _Don’t dwell on it,_ he tells himself. _Thinking about it will only make it hurt more._

If he cries to himself on the way home, bandage stuck to his cheek and itching with the tingle of touch, that’s only for him and the stars to know.

—

It takes them way too long to even look at each other. It hurts Tobio more than he ever thought it might, but, in a moment of self-reflection, Tobio thinks that this is fair. He doesn’t think any title other than _best friend_ would be fitting for Hinata, a boy who told him that he was _here,_ a boy who made Tobio respond with _As long as I’m here, you’re invincible._

Hinata makes him feel stronger than he’s ever been.

And he misses him so much.

“Kageyama-san?”

Tobio lifts his head from his lap, the towel draped over his head slipping down to rest around his neck. “Yachi-san,” he greets shortly but not unkindly. Yachi is timid enough as it is, the least Tobio can do is be polite and as gentle as he can manage.

Especially after what she had seen just last week.

“Are you okay,” she asks quietly, kneeling down in front of him.

Tobio blinks. “Yeah,” he says because he can’t bear the thought of telling her no. “I’m fine.”

She doesn’t look convinced. “I can tell you miss each other, you know.”

Tobio freezes, and he hopes that it doesn’t look too obvious. “What?”

“You miss him,” Yachi says plainly. “He misses you too.”

He swallows against the lump in his throat. _Hinata misses him?_

“I know you probably don’t believe me, at least not entirely, but I can tell you’re both a little down. It’s not the same, is it? Not having Hinata to yell at and bicker with?”

Tobio nods, slowly, jerkily, and he lifts his head to look at Yachi head-on. “Can you help me?” he asks quietly.

Her eyes widen, face falling in surprise, but she recuperates quickly, a smile gracing her lips. “Of course, Kageyama-san.”

Once upon a time, he isn’t sure he’d be the one to start an attempt to make it up to a friend, to a partner, but he thinks he has Hinata to thank for that.

( ☾ )

_18_

_maybe the skies are shrouded with rain._

“Ah.”

Tobio leans around Shouyou to look through the gym doors. “Ah,” he echoes.

Yachi _had_ told them that it was supposed to start pouring soon, that they shouldn’t stay behind too late even if _they’re third-years now, they have free range of the gym and its keys._ Yamaguchi and Tsukishima had long since left with their own umbrellas too, snickering behind their hands as Yachi desperately tried to convince the two to go home before they had to walk through the upcoming storm without coats and umbrellas.

“When are we going to learn to listen to Yachi-san?” Shouyou whines, braving the first step out from the warm dryness of the gym.

“I don’t know,” Tobio says, flat and desert-dry to contrast the humid rain in front of them. The sky is much darker than it had been before practice started. “But you sure like to ignore everyone anyway.”

“Hey!” Shouyou hollers, whirling to point at Tobio with a finger that’s still stained red from spiking. _“You_ aren’t any better, Bakageyama! Wasn’t Tsukishima trying to help you with English again this week?”

“Do _you_ listen to Tsukishima?”

Shouyou pauses, mouth falling shut for a moment before he gripes, “No…” 

“S’what I thought.”

Shouyou groans loudly, leaning against the frame of the gym doors while Tobio goes off to switch the lights off. “I bet Tsukishima kept Yamaguchi from being a good captain and tellings us to go home earlier.”

“Or,” Tobio says, striding back over to his boyfriend, fixing his jacket on his shoulders and zipping it up to his neck, “he wanted to see us suffer just as much as Tsukishima does.”

Shouyou hums contemplatively, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. “I still think Tsukishima convinced him.”

Tobio snorts, stepping outside to stand underneath the veranda, still shielded just enough from the rain. “Yamaguchi is just as much of a bitch as Tsukishima is, he’s just got social anxiety.”

Shouyou wheezes, moving forward to stand beside him. “You’re right.” he turns, sliding the gym doors shut and locking up for the evening.

“Race you to the clubroom!” Shouyou hollers, already sprinting off towards the building.

“Shouyou, _dumbass,_ get back here!” Tobio shouts, chasing after him, and it feels slightly like he’s sprinting through thin walls of water. He doesn’t mind, because he catches up and leaps up the stairs with his long legs and makes it to the clubroom first.

Shouyou whines as he slumps into Tobio’s side, handing him the keys so he can unlock the door. “I thought I had that.”

“That’s what you get for cheating.”

“I hate you,” Shouyou tells him, shaking his head to rid his curls of rainwater.

“I hate you too,” Tobio hums.

They promptly gather their things, turning off the lights and locking up there too. They’re back in the rain as quickly as they had gotten out of it.

The beginning of a February storm like this makes for a freezing experience, and Shouyou is massively unprepared for it. The idiot hadn’t made himself slide on his joggers over his shorts to grant himself an extra layer of clothes, and he’s shivering violently beside Tobio as they speedwalk through the rain. (They’ve both learned, from first-hand experience in the past two years, that sprinting through the rain with slight winds only makes it worse. They haven’t raced through light storms since their first year.)

With an overdramatic movement, Tobio shucks off his jacket and swings it to wrap around Shouyou’s shoulders.

Shouyou shudders into the extra layer of warmth before turning his revived smile to Tobio. “Thanks, Yamayama-kun!”

Tobio grunts. “Don’t mention it.”

He’s thankful that he doesn’t live as far as Shouyou does from the school because they make it home relatively quickly with Shouyou’s bike in tow.

They burst through the front door, desperate for warm, dry clothes and equally warm, dry blankets.

“Oh, welcome home, Tobio,” Tobio’s mother calls from the kitchen. “I thought you boys would be home soon, so I figured I could prepare some hot chocolate for you.”

Shouyou’s face glows. “Thank you, Kageyama-san!” he chirps, pulling off his sopping wet shoes and socks and bounding over to the kitchen with more than a little hop in his step.

“Let me get you both towels so you can start to dry yourselves off.”

“Thanks, mom,” Tobio says, accepting his own mug and taking a sip. The warmth of it spreads across his chest. He’s starting to gain feeling in his fingers again, digits no longer stiff with the cold.

When he looks over, Shouyou has already downed about half of his serving, a ring of chocolate and whipped cream around his mouth. “Dumbass,” Tobio says fondly, reaching over to swipe a bigger glob of cream from the corner of his boyfriend’s lips. His tongue trails soon after, gathering up the rest of it.

“It’s really good, Tobio,” he says in protest, though his eyes are glittering with joy.

“Doesn’t mean you have to scarf it down, idiot,” Tobio shoots back, voice soaked with affection.

Tobio’s mother returns then, towels in one hand and two sets of clothes in another. “Towels for the drying, warm clothes for after,” she tells them with a smile. She leans over and kisses them both on the cheek. “Make yourself at home, Shouyou-kun,” she adds, patting the spot where her lips had just made contact. “I don’t think you’ll be able to make it home anytime soon; this storm isn’t letting up.”

“Thanks, Kageyama-san.”

They finish their hot cocoa soon after, racing each other up the stairs. They’re certainly not running, they both insist when Tobio’s mother tells them to slow down.

Karasu is fast asleep in his bed in the corner of Tobio’s room. Shouyou coos at him quietly, not having the heart to even attempt to pet him lest he wake the little thing up. Even after this past year, the cat is still rather tiny.

“You know where the bathroom is,” Tobio says, dropping off his set of clothes on the bed.

“Mhm!”

Shouyou’s off through the door and down the hall in a blink.

Tobio takes the time to dry himself off quickly, stripping out of his soggy clothes and switching them out for a thick jumper and sweats. He drops them onto the floor at the end of his bed to deal with later. Now he busies himself with searching for another blanket to throw over his bed. 

Shouyou runs warmer than the average person but he knows just one blanket won’t be enough for the boy tonight.

Shouyou comes back into as Tobio’s tugging one out of his closet. He doesn’t ask where to put his clothes, spotting the pile that Tobio has already started. He doesn’t say anything more, instead choosing to wander his room a few steps, leaning down to let Karasu nuzzle into his knuckles. Tobio smiles at the exchange, unfolding the quilt to start draping it over the duvet already on the mattress.

“Ooh,” Shouyou hums, now scanning the papers on Tobio’s desk. “You’re already filling out your adult papers, huh?”

Tobio hums back, stretching the extra quilt across the width of his bed. “Yeah,” he says noncommittally, now sidestepping Shouyou’s bouncing as he moves to throw himself onto the mattress. “Just making sure I don’t forget things before they even start.”

“That’s good,” Shouyou hums, voice muffled by the thick fabric of the blanket that’s he’s shoved his face into. He turns then, shifting onto his side to look at Tobio picking up both their clothes to throw in the dryer. Childishly, he makes grabby hands at him and whines playfully. “C’mere.”

Tobio huffs, lips quirking up slightly. “Let me put our clothes in the dryer so they’re not still soaked and cold later,” he tells him, brushing his hair away from his brow with gentle fingers so that he can press an equally gentle kiss to his forehead.

With a pout and short harrumph, Shouyou grips Tobio’s wrist tightly and _pulls._ Their clothes drop back down to the floor in a heap of rainwater and fabric and Tobio’s side hits the bed with a breathy _oof._ Tobio knows his boyfriend is much stronger than he used to be back in their third year, but this growing strength is always surprising and definitely hot.

Tobio chuckles this time at the weepy face Shouyou’s pushing his way and finally relents. “Fine.”

A grin immediately replaces the pout and Shouyou cheers satisfactorily, getting his hands underneath the blanket to shove it down so he can throw it back over the both of them. While he does that, Tobio turns to switch off the lamp on his bedside table; the lighting shifts instantly, the day’s dying light muffled by the thick gray clouds filling the room through the blinds. Tobio can still hear the rain pattering softly now against the window.

They settle comfortably underneath the layers of quilts, warm and dry, though their hair is still a little damp.

With an insistent prod from Shouyou’s little fingers, Tobio turns over for Shouyou to attach to his back like an affectionate mollusk.

“I’m going to Brazil,” Shouyou says softly, voice quiet and low in the shifting darkness of Tobio’s room. Tobio turns his head slightly in an attempt to look at his boyfriend directly.

“I know,” he whispers.

“It’ll be good,” Shouyou murmurs, shuffling even closer into Tobio’s back, forehead pressed firmly into the space between his shoulder blades. “I want to go, and it’ll be good. Sand isn’t a reliable surface to play on, so it’ll help me with my balance.”

“Yeah,” Tobio agrees. Shouyou’s arms are too tense around his midriff. Tobio leans away, not without a vulnerable noise of protest from the boy against him, and turns around to face his boyfriend completely. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around his waist, tugging Shouyou into his chest. Shouyou wastes no time snuggling into him.

There’s more silence, tenser than it had just been a minute ago. “It’s a good opportunity,” Shouyou whispers. “I’m taking it.”

“Good,” Tobio echoes. Somehow he knows Shouyou’s just trying to make the idea sink in, that he’s leaving his home country to go live somewhere unfamiliar and unknown for two years.

Oh. _Oh._

“I’ll miss you,” Shouyou mumbles, voice warbly.

That’s why he’s bringing it up. It _is_ starting to sink in.

Shouyou knows he won’t be able to see him or any of their friends in person for _two years._ Thinking about it makes Tobio’s heart hurt.

“I’ll miss you too,” he says in earnest. He leans back a little bit, just enough to grant him space to tilt Shouyou’s head up with a finger so he can press a kiss to his forehead. Shouyou sniffs at the action but leans into the touch all the same. “I think,” Tobio continues, lips brushing faintly against his boyfriend’s hairline, “that you’ll be just fine. You’re good with people. You’re strong and stubborn and learn too quickly for your own good, but I think it’s admirable.”

Shouyou whimpers breathlessly, burying his face into the crook of Tobio’s neck. Tobio loves to shower his boyfriend with compliments, but it’s hardly frequently about his character, about how much he loves him and why. They’ve never said it before, but Tobio thinks it’s understood. It’s in every action, every touch, every moment spent together. Maybe it’s time.

Shouyou’s arms tighten around Tobio’s middle. “Thank you,” he whispers, voice barely loud enough for Tobio to hear. It’s still a little shaky, but Tobio can hear the sappy-sweet fondness in its tone.

Tobio hums, stroking his palm along his boyfriend’s waist to his flank, a warm pressure that has Shouyou sighing out a content breath into his skin. “I love you, Shouyou.”

The boy in his arms stiffens, but he melts even faster, nuzzling his nose into the column of his neck before he leans back to look him in the eyes.

“I love you too, Tobio. So much.”

A smile tugs at Tobio’s lips, and he doesn’t care enough to even try to tamp it down. Shouyou’s lips find his quickly, a firm press of their mouths that feels like home.

When they part, Tobio murmurs, “I’ll wait for you.”

He can tell that Shouyou believes him.

( ☾ )

_16_

_maybe the night feels endless._

He knows people still refer to him as the King of the Court, he knows that people are intimidated by him, he _knows_ that his middle school reputation follows him.

He knows all of these things and yet… 

It’s a normal game day, as normal as the qualifiers can be. Tobio sits off to the side of the court, nail filer held tight between his fingertips. 

It’s a ritual that helps him focus on the game to come, to relax the nerves that still fight to bubble up in his throat. Normally he’s well versed in shutting out the noise from the bleachers and the other teams, but whispers sneak past his defenses.

Tobio almost doesn’t hear them at first, as deep in the zone as he is, but the words gradually get louder in his ears.

When they register it’s like a stab to his heart.

“It’s the King of the Court,” a voice above him whispers.

“Oh you’re right,” a second agrees.

“D’you think it’ll be as bad as middle school?”

“If he still pulls those impossible quick sets, then it might as well be.”

“I mean, it’s been a long time since then,” a third, separate voice chimes in, though it doesn’t sound too confident in the words that are coming out. “Maybe he’s learned and grown since then?”

The first voice laughs, a short sound, more out of disbelief than humor. “I really doubt that. He had to be _benched_ before anything improved, right?”

The trio above Tobio falls silent, and eventually he realizes that he can’t hear _anything. Everything_ is quiet, only the rush of blood in his ears. He’s not even sure if he’s looking at his hands anymore, vision blurred and unfocused.

Rushing rushing rushing soundless voices, mouths parted in yells of indignance and irritation, screams of Tobio’s arrogance and demanding monarchy.

He can’t stay here, he can’t keep falling he can’t stay he can’t he can’t _he can’t—_

“—eyama. Kageyama!”

Tobio can’t help the flinch that jerks his entire body, nail file almost slipping from between his fingers.

“What’s up with you?”

His lips part, an unsteady huff falling through, and he realizes he can’t find the words. Tobio doesn’t want to explain why he feels his mask slipping, why his fingers are trembling around the nail file.

He doesn’t have to either, because Hinata must see the panic creeping through in Tobio’s face. He looks up to the balconies where the trio above them are asking each other whether they want to stay and watch the King of the Court’s overbearing play or if they want to drop it and find another game to spectate.

Tobio isn’t exactly sure what crosses Hinata’s face, but whatever it is, it’s fierce and burning. He’s only seen it once before, when he’d shut Hinata down on sets during that one fateful training camp.

And before he knows it, _“Hey!”_ Hinata shouts, jabbing a finger up at the boys before they can wander away. “You don’t know Kageyama! Sure he’s mean and demanding but if he says something I don’t like, I’m just not going to listen to him! If you want to see the King of the Court, then watch us play. We’re going to win.”

Tobio’s fingers tremble a little less, and he tightens his grip on the slender file. He doesn’t pay any mind to the boys above him this time, just watching as Hinata glares at them in a way that shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is.

The three of them seem to take heed of this, eyes glinting with interest. “Putting on a show?” the first boy asks, leaning his forearms onto the railing. He looks smug, almost as though he believes he’s struck a nerve.

“Not for you,” Hinata says haughtily, over-confident in the way that he always is. In the way that Tobio refuses to admit is endearing.

The gym feels quiet, dead silent, as Hinata stares them down from his place on the hardwood floor below them, making him look infinitely smaller than he naturally would beside them. His presence is anything but _small,_ Tobio thinks.

The staredown breaks off and the sound returns to the building, the squeaking of volleyball shoes and the slams of spikes filling the space. The boys don’t leave their place, rather settling in for the long run. Hinata turns away from them then, presumably satisfied with his outburst, and looks down at Tobio, who has not budged since Hinata entered his little bubble of panic to _defend_ him.

“Thank you,” Tobio says. 

Hinata blinks at him, mouth parting in surprise, but Tobio doesn’t think he looks off-put. “Tsukishima’s right, it’s really weird when you’re polite.”

Tobio glares at him, lips turning down. “Dumbass,” he gripes, voice pitched low, but they both know there’s no real heat behind it.

Hinata grins, large and bright and almost unhinged in its confidence, and reaches down to offer his hand. “Get up, let’s show them what we’ve got.”

He blinks at the hand in front of him, but he grins back, taking it between his own callused ones and allowing Hinata to pull him to his feet. He steps back, but Hinata’s hand lingers with a squeeze around Tobio’s fingers for a moment before letting go. 

He doesn’t have time to ponder the feat, because Hinata bounds closer and into his space to holler, “Set! Set! C’mon Kageyama-kun!” and then he’s off towards the net without so much as another glance.

Tobio smiles again, nose and brow scrunching with the force of it, and slips his nail file back into its spot in his nail care bag before running over to set. Hinata’s curls bounce with each spike, cheeks flushed with adrenaline and exhilaration, hand stained mauve.

Just before the whistle with the team lined up along the back of the court, Hinata turns to him, fingers tugging at Tobio’s sleeve, and smiles wide and warm like the spring sun; “I’m here,” he tells him, face set and serious and believing, fingers tightening their grip momentarily before letting go entirely.

“You’re invincible,” Tobio says back, voice steady.

They win the game, and Tobio notes with a warm, bursting feeling in his chest that Hinata looks back up to the spot Tobio’s hecklers had been and gives them a smug grin, sticking his tongue out at them.

( ☾ )

_8, [?]_

_but that’s okay._

“Tobio-chan.”

He twists quickly in place, losing track of the ball and falling out of his rounds of sets. “Miwa-nii?”

“Have you ever thought about finding someone special someday?”

Tobio pauses, considering this for a moment. “Not really,” he says, turning back to find his volleyball slowing to a stop a few steps away from him.

“Have you ever heard of soulmates?”

Tobio blinks, volleyball now cradled in his palms. “No?”

Miwa smiles, a large thing with an excited glint in her eyes. “A soulmate,” she begins, and Tobio knows she’ll keep him there until she’s finished—but he doesn’t mind, Miwa’s tales are always fun to listen to, even if Tobio doesn’t always completely understand them, “is someone you feel like you’ve known forever, even if you’ve only known them for a day. Everyone has one,” Miwa continues, looping around the hedge separating them to squat in front of Tobio.

“Even if you haven’t thought about meeting anyone special someday, you’ll find someone you love with your whole heart.” She points a finger and presses it right on the second rib above his steady heartbeat. “Even if you don’t find them for months or for decades. There’s always someone who will stand with you through thick and thin, when you think that maybe you don’t deserve them.”

Tobio looks down at the finger against him and blinks. “I’ll find someone like that?” he asks, lifting his eyes back up to connect with Miwa’s own, blue on blue.

“You will,” she promises, and stands up, straightening her joggers as she goes. “Don’t take that for granted, Tobio,” she says, rounding the hedge to go back into the house again. “You’ll find someone that you love so much that you start to think that you’ve never truly loved anyone before.”

With that, she’s gone as soon as she came, raven hair newly below her shoulder blades shifting with the breeze.

_I promise you, someday, if you get really good, someone even better will come find you._

Maybe that’s true. Maybe Kazuyo and Miwa have always been talking about the same person.

Tobio smiles, turning it down towards the ball in his hand. “Whoever that is,” he says, voice pitched low, “I hope it’s someone who’ll play volleyball with me and love it as much as I do.”

( ☾ )

_24, 25_

_because only when it’s dark enough can you see the stars._

They do end up reaching the top, together on a stage solely their own.

Tobio wouldn’t change anything about how he got here for the world.

He grew up knowing isolation and loss, the fear of what could be lost if not treated carefully. Tobio knows the risks, though it’s been years since he’s been afraid of it. 

He supposes he’d had friends before his grandfather died, people who he could label as acquaintances at the very least, but did he ever really have anyone? His family doesn’t count because he thinks his family had always been there. 

Until they weren’t. 

He lost his family, and then he lost his team, and finally lost his touch. The chairs by the table, angled towards the TV, only existed as an aching reminder. The empty room beside his grew hallow, only dust and heavy silence residing within its walls. Kitagawa Daichii only lived to serve the life that had so quickly fallen apart. Empty and broken, worn down and left behind.

Tobio couldn’t erase the pain of his skill after he’d been saddled the King of the Court because it was mindboggling to think that you couldn’t do something well when you were already so good. He moved on to attempt Shiratorizawa’s entrance exam—whether for the school’s athletic prowess or for one last grab to keep his grandfather close, he’s not entirely sure—and failed. 

Tobio had been painstakingly going through the motions by that point. He hadn’t really known what to do. He remembers often wondering if it had really been worth all of that, to go through all that loneliness and heartache over something that had once only ever given him happiness.

He spent the better part of a year with more fog in his head than anything else, but the thickness of it finally began to part ways when a boy with orange-fire hair and honey-brown eyes yelled at him, voice high and shrill, for being in the Karasuno gyms. He learned his name was Hinata Shouyou.

That boy led him through thick and thin, through loss and through victories, through pain and elation. The sun over a shroud, chasing away the fog and heartache. For annoying as he was, and for annoying as he _is,_ Tobio wouldn’t trade him for anything.

He still might not be the best at interacting with others, and he may not be the best at emoting or empathizing, but he’s grown, and Shouyou tells him that that’s all that matters.

Stepping up beside his husband on the world stage, feet planted steadily on the backline of the court and swathed in red with his number ten emblazoned on his back, is the only place he could ever think he would be now. Tobio doesn’t regret anything about his life. He presses the palm of his hand into the stitching of a number on his back, thumb stroking momentarily between his shoulder blades.

(They’re stiff, muscles corded tightly with anticipation and excitement bubbling within the man’s veins.)

Shouyou looks at him in question, but it’s only soft. Then he grins, large and loving, eyes gentle and gooey like caramel.

“I’m here,” Tobio tells him, voice soft and warm and full of too many emotions that he remembers he had once forgotten how to identify.

Shouyou’s eyes sheen over, a watery look to them that screams _I’m proud of you._ “You’re invincible,” he finishes, tangling their fingers together for a quick squeeze before the team’s roster begins to be announced.

The world is watching, stands filled with sparkling eyes far beyond the screen, but the only eyes Tobio cares about are Shouyou’s.

Partners, to the top of the world, the infamous duo to the end of time.

The whistle blows.

_and with the stars, you shall rise again._

_ageless_

**Author's Note:**

> WOOOOOO dear lord you would not believe how hard i speedran this fic these past few days. biggest regret of my life. but i think it all turned out pretty okay, all things considered! 
> 
> this was for the kagehina big bang! the first bang that i've ever seen through to the end and written for! it was so much fun, and i really enjoyed seeing everything unfold as both a contributor and a mod. i've made some amazing friends through this bang and it was such a joy to be a part of it since the very beginning <3
> 
> another shoutout to my lovely artist partner mitao! you were so amazing to work with and your art is so gorgeous, thank you so so much <3
> 
> find mitao on [instagram](https://instagram.com/icimitao)!
> 
> and as always, find me at!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/izucaii) | [instagram](https://instagram.com/izu.caii) | [tumblr](https://izucaii.tumblr.com/)


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